Page 89 of Cruel Ice

“I was never like your twisted prick of a father.” James glared at Declan. Blood poured from his shoulder wound. Declan hadn’t been shooting to kill. If he had, the bullet would have gone straight into James’s heart.

My father taught me how to shoot perfectly long ago. A necessary requirement for Conor Flynn’s son.

And, apparently, being a good shot had been a necessary requirement for Conor Flynn’s stepbrother, too.

“When he hired me, I seriously thought I was going to be handling PR.” James shook his head. His blood kept flowing.“Schmoozing with clients. And then, two weeks in, he has me meet him at some rundown warehouse. I’m thinking, okay, maybe we’re doing some acquisitions. No,no.That prick had a guy in there that hetortured.Right in front of me.” The words came out feverishly. “Your dad had goons. They tied the man up. They broke this prick’s fingers. Hell, they used pliers to completely rip off a finger. The guy was screaming and begging and…he told your dad every damn thing he wanted to know in record time.”

Declan’s gun was dead steady on James. “You got a taste for torture that night, didn’t you?”

“What? No.” A fast, negative shake of his head. “I did not?—”

“Yes, you did.” From Marley.

Sonofabitch. Hadn’t he told the woman to leave? If he was going to shoot his best-friend-slash-father-figure in the face, he’d rather she not see him commit the deed.

And I am going to kill him. James is not walking out of this house alive.

“You liked the power you got, didn’t you, James?” She knelt beside Parker, with her hand on his throat. Parker didn’t seem to be moving.

Apparently, James hadn’t missed with his shot.

One to the heart and one to the head.Conor Flynn’s preferred execution style. The way most of his enemies had been taken out over the years. But his father certainly wasn’t the only one who enjoyed that style of death. It was a typical mob hit.

Marley wasn’t wrong about my family’s ties to the mob. I tried to sever them, but there are some sins that will haunt you forever.

“Did you help that night?” Marley asked. “Did you join in and torture that man so long ago?”

James was staring—no, glaring at her.

“Did Conor Flynnmakeyou help?” Marley amended.

“Yes,” James hissed. “And I fucking vomited when they started cutting that SOB open but…he was begging and screaming and…”

“And did you like the sounds?” Marley’s careful question.

James smiled. It was a smile that Declan had never seen before on his old friend. James’s eyes seemed to shine with a bright light, and his face held absolute joy. “I liked it better when he stopped breathing entirely.”

“There it is,” Marley said. Her hand pulled away from Parker’s throat. She inched back. “I’ve seen that look before. Another man, another place. Some people are just really, really good at wearing masks, but even the best masks will eventually fall away to show what’s inside.”

James’s smile dimmed. “What in the hell are you talking about?”

“Evil,” she responded simply. “I see it in you. On you.”

So did Declan. Why hadn’t he seen it before? Because James had been good at wearing his mask? Or because…

Because I didn’t want to see it?

“Did you become one of Conor Flynn’s hitmen?” Marley asked as she rose to her feet. “Torture and death. Is that the kind of work you did for him?”

James licked his lips. “It was more fun than PR.”

Declan knew he was staring at a dead man. And hewouldbe pulling the trigger to end James’s life. But he wanted answers first. He needed them. His brother needed them. “My father told you to kill my mother.”

Laughter burst from James. He took a step to the side. A step that put him closer to Marley.

“Stop,” Declan warned.

“You aren’t going to kill me.” James wagged his left index finger at Declan. His right arm was totally limp against his body and soaked with blood. “You can’t. I know the truth about yourmother and father, and if I die, that big mystery will never be solved. The mystery that has haunted you for your whole fucking life.” Another wag of that thick finger. “If you wanted to kill me, the first shot would have done it. You didn’t. You just don’t have the taste for?—”

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